The Revolt of the Fallen

By Luan Ferr

Get ready to enter the Valley of Winds. In this intriguing tale, Paradise becomes the stage for a celestial war, triggered by the creation of an existence similar to God itself. The energy resulting from the celestial battle casts Earth into the abyss, where fallen angels begin to influence humanity, steering it away from its Creator. Ronan, a priest specializing in exorcisms, is blessed with a divine gift at the age of eight. Raised in the orthodox faith, he is guided to the seminary to hone his abilities. Years later, the community is shaken by a series of murders, and the Church entrusts the priest with the mission to assist the police. The killer leaves biblical passages at the crime scenes, causing Ronan to question his own faith.

As Ronan investigates the murders, he discovers that the killer's messages reference controversial points of the Bible, further challenging his belief. In the background, ten fallen angels plot events that are intricately tied to an ancient manuscript they seek to keep hidden. This manuscript holds the power to reshape faith, depriving the fallen ones of their influence over humanity. The revelation of the ancient manuscript becomes crucial in restoring Earth to its place of origin, where humanity would dwell in Eden in communion with the Creator. Ronan is the instrument of good in this eternal battle against evil, destined to unravel the mysteries behind the murders and confront powerful fallen angels who will stop at nothing to keep the sacred manuscript concealed.

Get ready for a narrative filled with mystery, faith, and clashes between divine and malevolent forces. Ronan, amidst the enigmatic murders, is challenged in his own belief as he seeks the truth, battling against the mighty fallen angels who seek to keep the sacred manuscript hidden. In "The Rebellion of the Fallen," immerse yourself in this thrilling saga where the destiny of humanity hangs in the balance and the fight for good will prevail!

• Language: English
• Publisher: AHZURIA PUBLISHING
• Release date: Jun 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223938934

Luan Ferr

Luan Ferr is a renowned author known for his mastery in writing fictional short stories that immerse readers in fascinating worlds, memorable characters, and engaging narratives. His ability to create stories that explore the eternal struggle between good and evil is unparalleled, offering readers a unique perspective on this universal conflict. In addition to his fictional works, Luan also dedicates himself to in-depth research on the phenomena of faith and its intrinsic connection to the human condition. He explores the various forms of esotericism and holism that have permeated humanity since time immemorial, revealing the profound influence of these practices in everyday life and cultures around the world. His books on subjects such as Feng Shui, Arcturian Healing, and others are the result of meticulous research and provide readers with a comprehensive view of these fascinating areas. With captivating and insightful writing, Luan Ferr leads his readers to profound reflections on human nature, the duality between good and evil, and the pursuit of a broader understanding of the world around us. His fictional short stories are filled with suspense, mystery, and thrilling plot twists, keeping readers eagerly wanting more with every page. Meanwhile, his non-fiction works explore esoteric fields in an accessible and interesting manner, showing how these ancient practices still exist today. With a unique style and a balanced approach between fiction and non-fiction, Luan Ferr establishes himself as a universal and profound author. His works are a source of entertainment and knowledge, providing readers with an enriching and thought-provoking experience. Whether through his imaginative stories or his esoteric explorations, Luan continues to captivate readers worldwide with his engaging and insightful writing.

Book preview

Prologue

The creation of mankind divided the celestial legions into two groups. On one side, those who support the Most High in creating a being in His image and likeness, and on the other, those who are against it.

From this division, war is born, and as a consequence, the Earth is cast into the second circle, within the reach of those who can inspire humanity, leading it from war to famine, from despair to the exploitation of man by man.

In this setting, the Creator tries to save His creation by sending beings to the Valley of Winds, born with the gift to subdue the forces of evil.

It was so two thousand years ago, and it remains so today.

❖   

Second Circle

The Revolt of the Fallen

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Chapter I

The World beneath the Worlds.

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TWENTY-EIGHT YEARS EARLIER.

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On the stone ground, a multitude of souls drags chains in a slow and weary walk. The environment is gray and foul-smelling, and many give up the struggle, walking with their heads down towards the inevitable.

Ever since the Earth was cast into the Valley of Winds, the Fallen ones have been commanding those who influence humanity, and for a long time, the crowd passing through the gates of hell has been growing.

Created in the image and likeness of God, men unconsciously respond to stimuli that lead them further and further away from the source. This is the objective of those who opposed the creation.

Amidst those who have been seduced by power, some of the condemned ones try in vain to escape the pressure of those pushing them forward, looking around in desperation. On one side, flames rise as far as the eye can see, on the other, there is a steep slope of a mountain covered in a type of slimy green moss.

Suffocated by the crowd, they try to go against the flow, but they are still pushed forward, with only one path to follow. Ahead, the gate that separates the souls composing the sad march from the world beneath the worlds comes into view. Beyond the gate, hopes fade, and Cerberus — a huge black three-headed dog — stands guard.

Meanwhile, atop the mountain, the Fallen ones observe the slowly moving mass. Among them, Abdon — the most powerful one — smiles at the futile efforts of the souls trying to escape their grim fate.

The Fallen ones have always made every effort to guide humanity towards bestiality, wanting to prove that man bears no resemblance to the Creator. Up until that moment, everything is going according to plan.

Then, the foundation of hell trembles.

Yekun — the first follower of Lucifer — is the first to feel the vibration. A powerful energy shifts to the second circle.

Two thousand years ago, during a similar event, the Earth came close to being out of reach for those who wish to debase humanity. Action must be taken.

Seconds later, Abdon feels the ripple of the veil.

It cannot be, he says, looking at Yekun.

With your permission, brother, I will go to Earth to see what is happening, says Yekun, now completely oblivious to the crawling multitude below.

The mountain shakes, a hint of turmoil ensues. Some souls start making their way back, and in the distance, the furious growl of Cerberus can be heard, trying to make the condemned ones resume their march.

Go, do whatever is necessary, Abdon tells Yekun as he looks at those advancing in the opposite direction of the flow.

Yekun dissolves into the ether, transported to the other side of the veil.

The rain does not wet Yekun; droplets merely pass through his ethereal body. The fallen angel has always found the strange interaction between material and non-physical things peculiar.

For a moment, he gazes at the storm-covered night sky, clouds swirling in tempestuous dance. The fallen one knows it is a sign. The lightning streaks across the sky and the rumble of thunder respond to the energy that has been unleashed from the source, traversing the planes and now finding its place within the two-story house where the spectral being currently gazes.

❖   

Chapter II

The Awakening of the Gift

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The square is empty. Toys usually fought over by children of all ages are idle, with only one boy playing.

Eight-year-old Ronan, holding a toy superhero, makes gestures in the air. Sitting on a bench in the square, a lady in uniform watches him with innocent eyes.

Without taking his eyes off the toy, the boy asks,

Are you really an angel?

The lady smiles.

Of course, I'm an angel, and a good one at that. That's why I'm here, she replies.

And can you fly? the boy asks, still making low flights with the superhero.

Of course! But only when it's absolutely necessary. Angels can't just fly around for no reason, she says, still smiling.

Then, where do you keep your wings, and how can you fly if you seem a bit chubby? The boy lowers his gaze, embarrassed.

The lady raises both arms and then lowers them, placing them on her knees.

You really have no filter, Ronan! But come here, she says, picking up the boy in her arms.

The lady affectionately moves the hair falling on the boy's forehead.

You're a very special boy, you know? It's your eighth birthday today, so I need to tell you something very important.

The boy seems curious.

I can't hide your gift any longer, so pay close attention, she continues. You have to be a brave boy, you have to help people, okay?

Ronan nods, shaking his head.

Then, with her thumb, the lady traces a vertical line on his forehead, from the hairline to the tip of his nose. Then, another line crosses horizontally from the top of the left eyebrow to just below the right eye. A new line is drawn above the right eyebrow, crossing below the left eye, intersecting at the glabella. For reasons only dreams can explain, the boy sees the lines emitting a white light.

It's a symbol of protection, she says.

Are you saying goodbye to me? Am I not going to see you anymore? the boy asks suspiciously.

No! she replies. But I'll always be nearby. There's a brief pause. Remember that you're very special.

The lady stands the boy up and looks into his eyes. Ronan now realizes that the square is crowded. Somehow, the children who are now playing all around were always there, but for some reason, he couldn't see them.

The angel continues,

Now you have to be courageous. It's time to wake up... wake up... wake up...

The thunder rumbles loudly outside, seemingly shaking the Rafat family's two-story house. Ronan wakes up startled.

Feeling drowsy, he looks around. The room is dimly lit, raindrops run vertical lines on the window glass.

The boy reaches under the pillow, knowing that his small flashlight is there, a gift from an uncle who likes fishing. When he finds it, he switches it on, and a beam of light projects into the room. In the next moment, the whole room lights up as another lightning bolt streaks across the sky outside.

One, two, three, four... twelve, he says.

Brummm

The Rafat's house shakes again.

You need to be a brave boy, the angel's words echo loudly in his head.

A strange sensation fills him from within; he senses a negative energy, a presence. Something seems off, although he doesn't know if what he feels is real or just fear doing its job.

Still lying in bed, he points the flashlight at the wardrobe, then sweeps the room with the beam of light, stopping at the doorknob.

He sits up in bed, using the flashlight to scan the room for the presence he feels in the house.

Still searching in the dark, without looking down, he gropes with his foot on the carpet along the bed, then feels the slippers, first one and then the other. With his slippers on, he gets up and walks toward the door.

Ronan turns the doorknob, opening the door slightly. He only sticks his head and flashlight out, illuminating the corridor first to the left, then to the right. He keeps the beam of light focused on his mother's room doorknob for a while, sensing that the presence is coming from there.

The boy slowly walks out of his room, occasionally looking back, afraid of being surprised by the source of that energy he feels in the air.

Arriving in front of his mother's room, he cautiously turns the doorknob. As he opens the door, he is surprised to see Yekun, an apparition radiating light, next to his mother.

The image of the apparition itself is not scary, but it emanates the negative energy that Ronan feels.

Realizing that the boy can see him, Yekun retreats as if touching the wall. Ronan then pushes the door abruptly, hurling the flashlight, which spins through the apparition as if it were smoke. The flashlight hits the wall and falls onto a Bible left open on the sideboard by Soyla, Ronan's mother.

Stay away from her! the boy shouts.

Yekun, surprised, passes through the wall.

Soyla, unaware of what happened, lethargic from drowsiness, sees her son near the door. She reaches out her hand.

Lie down here with mommy, dear, she says, yawning.

Ronan approaches.

His mother pulls the blanket, making space for the child to lie down. He settles in bed while she covers him, draping her arm over his body, and falls into a deep sleep once again.

On the sideboard, the flashlight illuminates a Bible passage.

For false Christs and false prophets will arise, and they will show great signs and wonders, so as to lead astray, if possible, even the elect.

Ronan looks at his mother, who is fast asleep. Impulsively, he places his thumb on her forehead, tracing the protective mark the angel had made on him in the dream. He can see the bright lines appear.

Now you're protected, he says.

❖   

Chapter III

The Clay Man

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The rain, once torrential, has now turned into a light drizzle. Ronan, lying in bed next to his mother, can't sleep. The presence is still there; he can feel it in the air. He looks around and sees the still-lit flashlight.

In the darkness of the room, illuminated by the faint light emanating from the flashlight, Ronan frees himself from his mother's arm and walks toward the sideboard next to the window. Still sensing the strange presence in the air, as if it were a smell, instinct leads him to look outside.

Through the fogged-up glass, he sees a figure contrasting its glow with the light from a streetlamp along the road. Using the sleeve of his pajamas, he rubs the glass to get a better view. The specter is there, on the lawn of the house, looking at him.

Ronan stays there for no more than a minute. He picks up the flashlight from the sideboard and silently makes his way, illuminating the path.

In the hallway, he looks at the closed door of his grandmother's room; apparently, she is also sleeping soundly. He walks toward the staircase that leads to the first floor, carefully descending the steps, just as his grandmother had taught him, heading towards the front door.

The key is in the lock. Ronan turns it twice to unlock the door, firmly grasps the doorknob, pushing it downward. The door opens just enough for the boy to pass through.

Two steps separate the threshold from the sidewalk that leads to the front gate. On the right side, a lawn stretches to the edge of the white wooden fence that divides the Rafat family's property from the neighboring property. It is where the specter watches him.

Yekun neither moves away nor approaches; he simply looks attentively at the boy who, with something shining on his forehead, walks resolutely toward him.

Ronan realizes that the being has feminine features, a gentle expression, something reminiscent of angelic images. But the boy doesn't rely on what he sees; he relies on what he feels.

The boy stops, half a meter separating the two. The scene is like a painting in a sacred work: a standing boy looking into the face of a specter with feminine features that smiles from a distance, the light from a streetlamp and suspended droplets creating a halo above.

Yekun lowers himself. When their eyes align, the boy speaks in an imperative tone.

Return to where you came from and never return!

Yekun's once angelic features initially show surprise, then assume his other appearance.

His mouth opens, revealing a row of pointed teeth, his eyes grow, distorting his face.

Even in the face of the intimidating expression, the boy remains impassive.

Return to where you came from and never return! the boy repeats.

Who do you think you are, clay man? Yekun asks. You were born to serve.

A grain of light emerges in the air, expanding and forming a vortex that begins to draw the specter with an irresistible force. Yekun's face contorts in strange agony.

Do you know who I am? he argues in a guttural tone. Do you know why I came?

There is no time for answers. Following the boy's command, the portal sucks in the specter, then disappears.

Ronan looks at the silent night, then at his own hands.

I am not made of clay, he says softly.

He returns to the house, enters, and locks the door once again. He climbs the stairs, reaching his mother's room.

Next to the bed, he takes off the pajamas, which are wet at the edges. Using the dry part, he wipes his feet and lies down. His mother is still sound asleep.

As he leans against Soyla's body, she instinctively embraces her son, pulling him closer.

Ronan turns off the flashlight and puts it under the pillow. He looks around once more; the strange presence is gone.

I am not made of clay, he innocently says.

❖   

Chapter IV

What is Hidden

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PRESENT DAY

Yekun wakes up abruptly on a stone bed, feeling weak. Beside him, Azazel lays his hand on his body, transferring vital energy.

What happened? Yekun asks.

No one knows yet, we've been waiting for you to wake up, says Azazel.

How long have I been unconscious?

In earthly time, twenty-eight years.

Yekun looks startled.

Twenty-eight years? he asks.

Yes, we thought you wouldn't survive.

How did I end up here? I don't remember anything, Yekun says.

You were thrown out of a vortex, falling into the middle of the dark plain.

The boy, Yekun furrows his brow.

He's no longer a boy, Abdon interrupts as he approaches. He's been a headache.

I will return to the second circle, Yekun says, getting up.

You can no longer cross the veil; somehow, that boy closed the passage for you. He is only part of the problem. There is another with different gifts that we must focus on.

We will send legions.

It won't work, Abdon looks outside. Now that he is stronger, no one can escape the abyss. You were the first, thrown here, and it was possible to rescue you. Many are not so lucky.

I will go! Azazel says. I know how to do it.

Abdon nods.

❖   

Sitting on a wooden bench, one of those seen in public squares, Father Ronan, now thirty-six years old, with dark hair falling on his shoulders, black eyes, wearing black dress pants matching his shirt buttoned up to the last button, holds a small chisel in his right hand and a piece of wood in his left, skillfully carving small chips from it, shaping it as desired.

In the unfinished object, one can see a man holding a child in his arms, the image of Joseph holding baby Jesus. Wood carving is a skill acquired during solitary days in the seminary.

It cannot be said that the works made by the hands of the priest are art, nor does the priest intend to be seen as an artist. It is just a pastime, a way to keep his mind away from the problems and debts that surround him.

Sitting alone there, in the shade of a fruitless tree that shelters nesting birds or passing ones, and remains green even in dry weather, to everyone's surprise, Father Ronan hears the distant sound of children playing.

He lives in an orphanage and prefers to be close to the innocent.

Ronan doesn't celebrate mass or administer sacraments; he has an administrative role in the orphanage. The rest of his ministry is less orthodox.

He is an apostolic delegate, assigned by the Church to support the police in cases of crimes related to religion, whether Catholic or not.

Crimes linked to faith are usually committed by mentally disturbed individuals who suddenly go mad, seeing heretics in need of purification here and there. In these cases, the criminals declare themselves instruments of God.

Another, even less orthodox, role attributed to